The instant he noticed the open drawer I saw a change in his face. It was only for a moment; but in that moment he looked at me with a sudden suspicion and surprise--looked as if he had caught me with my hand on the clew.
"Pray don't let me disturb you," said Major Fitz-David. "I have only come here to ask you a question.""What is it, Major?"
"Have you met with any letters of mine in the course of your investigations?""I have found none yet," I answered. "If I do discover any letters, I shall, of course, not take the liberty of examining them.""I wanted to speak to you about that," he rejoined. "It only struck me a moment since, upstairs, that my letters might embarrass you. In your place I should feel some distrust of anything which I was not at liberty to examine. I think I can set this matter right, however, with very little trouble to either of us. It is no violation of any promises or pledges on my part if Isimply tell you that my letters will not assist the discovery which you are trying to make. You can safely pass them over as objects that are not worth examining from your point of view. You understand me, I am sure?""I am much obliged to you, Major--I quite understand.""Are you feeling any fatigue?"
"None whatever, thank you."
"And you still hope to succeed? You are not beginning to be discouraged already?""I am not in the least discouraged. With your kind leave, I mean to persevere for some time yet."I had not closed the drawer of the cabinet while we were talking, and I glanced carelessly, as I answered him, at the fragments of the broken vase. By this time he had got his feelings under perfect command. He, too, glanced at the fragments of the vase with an appearance of perfect indifference. I remembered the look of suspicion and surprise that had escaped him on entering the room, and I thought his indifference a little overacted.
"_That_ doesn't look very encouraging," he said, with a smile, pointing to the shattered pieces of china in the drawer.
"Appearances are not always to be trusted," I replied. "The wisest thing I can do in my present situation is to suspect everything, even down to a broken vase."I looked hard at him as I spoke. He changed the subject.
"Does the music upstairs annoy you?" he asked.
"Not in the least, Major."
"It will soon be over now. The singing-master is going, and the Italian master has just arrived. I am sparing no pains to make my young prima donna a most accomplished person. In learning to sing she must also learn the language which is especially the language of music. I shall perfect her in the accent when I take her to Italy. It is the height of my ambition to have her mistaken for an Italian when she sings in public. Is there anything I can do before I leave you again? May I send you some more champagne?
Please say yes!"
"A thousand thanks, Major. No more champagne for the present."He turned at the door to kiss his hand to me at parting. At the same moment I saw his eyes wander slyly toward the book-case. It was only for an instant. I had barely detected him before he was out of the room.
Left by myself again, I looked at the book-case--looked at it attentively for the first time.
It was a handsome piece of furniture in ancient carved oak, and it stood against the wall which ran parallel with the hall of the house. Excepting the space occupied in the upper corner of the room by the second door, which opened into the hall, the book-case filled the whole length of the wall down to the window.
The top was ornamented by vases, candelabra, and statuettes, in pairs, placed in a row. Looking along the row, I noticed a vacant space on the top of the bookcase at the extremity of it which was nearest to the window. The opposite extremity, nearest to the door, was occupied by a handsome painted vase of a very peculiar pattern. Where was the corresponding vase, which ought to have been placed at the corresponding extremity of the book-case? Ireturned to the open sixth drawer of the cabinet, and looked in again. There was no mistaking the pattern on the fragments when Iexamined them now. The vase which had been broken was the vase which had stood in the place now vacant on the top of the book-case at the end nearest to the window.
Making this discovery, I took out the fragments, down to the smallest morsel of the shattered china, and examined them carefully one after another.
I was too ignorant of the subject to be able to estimate the value of the vase or the antiquity of the vase, or even to know whether it were of British or of foreign manufacture. The ground was of a delicate cream-color. The ornaments traced on this were wreaths of flowers and Cupids surrounding a medallion on either side of the vase. Upon the space within one of the medallions was painted with exquisite delicacy a woman's head, representing a nymph or a goddess, or perhaps a portrait of some celebrated person--I was not learned enough to say which. The other medallion inclosed the head of a man, also treated in the classical style. Reclining shepherds and shepherdesses in Watteau costume, with their dogs and their sheep, formed the adornments of the pedestal. Such had the vase been in the days of its prosperity, when it stood on the top of the book-case. By what a ccident had it become broken? And why had Major Fitz-David's face changed when he found that I had discovered the remains of his shattered work of art in the cabinet drawer?
The remains left those serious questions unanswered--the remains told me absolutely nothing. And yet, if my own observation of the Major were to be trusted, the way to the clew of which I was in search lay, directly or indirectly, through the broken vase.
It was useless to pursue the question, knowing no more than Iknew now. I returned to the book-case.